Only What We Could Cary, Essay Example

During World War II, Japanese-Americans were often constructed, not as normal citizens, but as the other. The internment of Japanese-Americans is perhaps the most visible sign of this construction. It shaped and colored the identities of the Japanese-Americans of the 1940s. It deprived them of their privacy, dignity, society and dreams and it changed their identities. Although the experience broke and shamed many of them, those who survived became stronger in the face of adversity.

The negative construction of Japanese-Americans began well before World War II. Mary Matsuda Gruenewald, once held captive in an American internment camp, wrote that her parents had learned to expect discrimination against those of Japanese descent, because they had faced it before, upon their arrival in the United States. Furthermore, because many new immigrants were, at first, unable to speak English, they would form race or culture oriented sub-communities and shops, so that they could survive more easily. But, notes Gruenewald, trading among these shops this slowed their assimilation and isolated them from other Americans. No doubt this isolation increased the suspicion and dislike of many of their neighbors and helped to construct the Japanese in America as “others.”

The bombing of Pearl Harbor in 1941 exacerbated these feelings of hatred and suspicion and spread anti-Japanese sentiment across the nation. Indeed, according to Okada, “The moment the impact of the words solemnly being transmitted over the several million radios of the nation struck home, everything Japanese and everyone Japanese became despicable.” (Kiyota 288) Wherever this sentiment started, it spread quickly. According to Matsuda Gruenewald, media outlets helped the spread by broadcasting untrue stories about Americans of Japanese descent. They cast Japanese-Americans as co-conspirators in the Pearl Harbor plot. Indeed, Matsuda Gruenewald (Matsuda Gruenewald 9) says the following:

Americans began to see us as conspirators responsible for the attack on Pearl Harbor. There were false stories in local newspapers and on radio broadcasts that Japanese “sympathizers” in Hawaii cut arrows into the cane fields, directing Japanese planes to Pearl Harbor.

Other false reports detailed instances of “sabotage” committed by Japanese-Americans and new, impending plots against the United States. Matsuda Gruenewald observes that no evidence for these attacks was ever uncovered, but that men like General John DeWitt claimed that “no proof of sabotage was indeed proof that sabotage was imminent.”(Matsuda Gruenewald 8)  Other editorials accused Japanese-Americans of knowing about the attack before it happened and of not being loyal enough to warn the United States government. One writer, for instance, wrote that it was “a fact” that there were many “code advertisements” that “to any Japanese eye” must have created suspicion, even if the readers did not know the full extent of the plot. And the fact that no Japanese-American had spoken up about the plot meant that “Japanese loyalty is primarily to Japan.” (Matsuda Gruenewald)

Some were even worse. Time Magazine published an article called, “How to Tell Your Friends from the Japs,” which painted the Japanese in a very ugly light. Indeed, according to the article, “Japanese — except for wrestlers — are seldom fat; they often dry up and grow lean as they age.” This was not all. The article also specified the following:

Chinese, not as hairy as Japanese, seldom grow an impressive mustache.  Most Chinese avoid horn-rimmed spectacles. Although both have the typical epicanthic fold of the upper eyelid (which makes them look almond-eyed), Japanese eyes are usually set closer together.  Those who know them best often rely on facial expression to tell them apart: the Chinese expression is likely to be more placid, kindly, and open; the Japanese more positive, dogmatic, arrogant.

Gruenewald was horrified as she began to realize that other Americans might view her this way. This realization made her loathe herself. She was American, but considered the enemy. She was Japanese, but ashamed of being Japanese. Indeed, she says, “Shame and self-loathing framed my sense of myself. Yet that’s the way it was—I looked like the enemy.” (Matsuda Gruenewald 9)

John Okada observed this sort of construction as well. Indeed, he said the following:

As of that moment, the Japanese in the United States became, by virtue, of their ineradicable brownness and the slant eyes which, upon close inspection, will seldom appear slanty, animals of a different breed.

One professor, he said, was no longer able look a once-favored Japanese pupil in the eye. This sort of treatment affected the way in which Japanese Americans felt and saw themselves. According to Okada, the pupil had never smiled much, “and now, probably never would.” (Okada 288) Anti-Japanese sentiment and its affects worsened in the internment camps. They were treated more like caged animals than human beings.

The actions of non-Japanese Americans toward Japanese Americans during World War II had a significant effect on Japanese-American dignity. It made many ashamed of who they were – from their appearance to their behavior to their heritage. Matsuda Gruenewald (9) speaks of her shame and isolation, saying the following:

As the anti-Japanese propaganda machinery kicked into full gear, I began to withdraw more and more. I started to drop my eyes whenever anyone approached me. Never much of a talker, I spoke even less in those months following Pearl Harbor.

Gruenwald’s view of herself became so low that she did not feel as if she even had the right to speak. Others reacted differently. They too were insulted and humiliated, but some, like Minoru Kiyota became angry, rather than simply dejected. Kiyota describes an encounter with one FBI agent who, while questioning Kiyota about his schooling, screamed insults such as “You Dirty Jap!” His reaction was to yell back. Indeed, he said, “It was no longer fear, however, that made me tremble. It was the wretched feeling of having to endure such humiliating insults from this man.” (Kiyota)

Even though Japanese-Americans such as Matsuda Gruenewald had no part in the attack on Pearl Harbor, the construction of Japanese-Americans as the enemy or the “other” made many feel as if they were criminals, guilty of crimes that they did not know they had committed. John Okada reports that shortly after many Japanese-Americans had been forced into internment camps, the government sent them a “Loyalty Questionnaire.” It could not he says, have come at a worse time. The questions left Japanese-Americans confused and pitted them against each other. One question, according to Okada, number 28, was considered particularly unfair. Indeed, he says the following:

Question number 28 in particular was perceived as unfair and illogical for the Issei, who, having been forced into life behind barbed wire, were now being asked to forswear their Japanese citizenship and to register unqualified loyalty to the United States, a country which refused them citizenship (Kiyota 287).

Answering yes, therefore, would have left them without any sort of citizenship at all. It would have stripped them of a large part of their identities. On the other hand, answering no would have seemed to have verified the rumors of Japanese disloyalty that Gruenewald details. Japanese-Americans were, then, asked to choose between losing part of their identities and tarnishing the identities they had.

Time in the internment camps also made many Japanese Americans suspicious of Caucasians. Indeed, Minoru Kiyota wrote, “I always feared the smile of a Caucasian. You never knew what lurked behind that pleasant face.” (Kiyota 292)     Later, Kiyota also observes that the government’s actions against him destroyed much of his faith in others. Indeed, he says, “All my hopes for this world, my trust in other human beings, and my confidence in myself were utterly shattered.”

If any good at all came out of America’s internment of its Japanese citizens, it was the strength and resolve those who survived them found. Many found comfort in Japanese traditions, and while once they may have considered themselves equally Japanese and American, their internment may very well have strengthened their respect and love of Japanese traditions and weakened their American identities. Indeed, Matsuda Gruenewald remarks, “I always felt that I was Japanese-American and I belonged in America, that I was part of the group. Before December 7, 1941, it never occurred to me that I was not.” (Matsuda Gruenewald 11)

Later, Gruenewald writes, “As a carefree teenager about to be throw into the chaos and devastation of World War II, I had no idea how these Japanese values would sustain me and my family.” (Matsuda Gruenewald 11) When speaking of her last happy day on Vashon Island, Gruenewald writes that it was the last day she “fully believed I was an American.” (Matsuda Gruenewald 2) Meanwhile, Kiyota writes that in the camps he was “becoming more and more attracted to the Japanese tradition that had been the source of so much solace to my soul.” (Kiyota 296) Kiyota and his counterparts kept themselves strong by staying true to themselves, their families and their traditions.

The construction of Japanese Americans as the “other” and the treatment of such citizens left many lost, humiliated and confused. But the fact that some were able to survive exclusion, shame, humiliation and the loss of loved ones and material goods shows the strength of many Japanese-Americans. For most, internment meant a change or a loss of identity. But many assumed newer, stronger identities which they and their families can take pride in.

Works Cited

Kiyota, Minoru. “Beyond Loyalty.” Only What We Could Cary. Ed. Lawson Fusao Inada. Berkeley, CA: Heyday Books, 2000. 286-310.

Matsuda Gruenewald, Mary. Looking Like The Enemy. Troutdale: NewSage Press, 2005.

Okada, John. “No-No Boy.” Only What We Could Cary. Ed. Lawson Fusao Inada. Berkeley, CA: Heyday Books, 2000. 286-310.